


Fresh Blood, Old Wounds

by Gaia_Mother_of_All_17



Category: Criminal Minds, Original Work, Supernatural
Genre: A/B/O dynamic, Abduction, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Hunters, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Alternative Universe - FBI, Babies, Depiction of some dark themes, Depression, Emotional Hurt, F/F, F/M, Forced Bonding, Forced Crossdressing, Forced Feminization, Forced Intimacy, Forced Pregnancy, Forced Relationship, Garcia is cute and witty as always, Gay Male Character, Heavy Angst, Lots of Babies, M/M, Male Hermaphrodites, Mating Bites, Mating Bond, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mental Anguish, Mpreg, Not Beta Read, Original Character(s), Romance, Shapeshifting, Some depictions of rape, Special Abilities, This may read weird, Werebabies, Wolves, and Morgan is her chocolate love muffin, but not graphic and not a lot, it gets lighter though, sorry in advance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-08
Updated: 2017-12-14
Packaged: 2018-09-30 20:08:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10170863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gaia_Mother_of_All_17/pseuds/Gaia_Mother_of_All_17
Summary: There was a time when Corbin Leblanc thought that she would never find happiness again. A time when she thought the rest of her life would be caked in blood and shrouded in darkness, death, and sorrow. Then she met Sam Winchester, and things started to look up. After five years of being blissfully married to the hunter, and three months away from giving birth, Corbin and Sam couldn't be happier. But, it would seem that fate has other plans for the couple.The BAU are investigating series of abductions occurring in various states. Men, women, children, even whole families, are going missing without a trace. No phone calls, no letters, nothing. They're there one day gone the next. So far ten cases have been accounted and in all the case there was at least one dead victim. What's more, there were no prints or distinct traits that could be used to aid in creating a working profile for the "unsub". With so little to go on, Aaron and his team of behavior analysts are left to watch and wait. But, with the report of a new abduction, the team of FBI agents will embark down a path they never knew existed.





	1. Prologue

**Winter Wonderland**

Thick, heavy looking clouds dominated the skies of Vancouver. Snowflakes fell leisurely from the clouds in fat, fluffy clumps. It is the perfect scene of winter, snow blanketing the ground and the needle heavy branches of Western Hemlock trees. Wind whipped wistfully through the trees, blowing a bit a snow dust in the air. Truly a divine sight, a calm before the blizzard if you will.

Tucked away from the cool winter winds was a man. Dresses in a three piece, charcoal gray suit with hair slicked back, and sharp, squared features, he’s the image on professionalism and business. He stood in the warm confines of an immaculate, Victorian styled office. Deep, chestnut floor and ceiling moldings decorate the room with stained semi-circular pillars that fan out on to the ceiling. A rich variety of earth tones in the furniture, drapery, and area rug all blend together to create a beautiful color scheme.  

With hands shoved into the deep suit pants pockets, the man stood peering out at the wintery scene. Winter has always been a favorite season for him, the cool temperature more agreeable than the heat of summer. He had a complacent gleam in his eyes, reminiscent of the grand achievements the past few years had brought. His pack has been growing leaps and bounds, what with lycans that shared his views and goals joining by the dozen. It is simply astonishing how well things have turned out.

“Alpha Brighton,” a soft feminine voice snapped Brighton from his thoughts.

The man turned from his window, eyes falling on the slim form of his beta.

“Ah, Delilah, I presume you have something for me.” He pulled away from the window fully, attention solely on her.

Delilah strode toward him, a “cat ate the canary” type grin on her face. Her posture read of pride and accomplishment, whatever the news is, it has to be good. With only a few feet between them she stops to bow in a deep curtsy.

“We’ve found her,” she reported. “We’ve found the Omega.”

The alpha crossed the short distance in the blink of an eye. Prue glee filled his eyes, though his feature read of mild indifference, but did nothing to hide it.

“Where is she?” he inquires.

The close proximity of him has Delilah silently preening. She’s had a bit of an infatuation for the man, even since she and her brother first met him. His confidence and conviction was captivating and his dominance sent a shock wave of pure want through the beta. Sadly, he’d never once returned or even noticed the woman’s feeling toward him. The alpha only had eyes for his omegas, and that had Delilah boiling in envy. What did those weak, lust fueled floozies have that she didn’t?

“Lawrence, Kansas, sir.” She answered. “But, she isn’t alone.”

 Brighton placed a warm hand to her right cheek, as if such a motion would coax the words from her lips; which they did.

“There’s a man, human, involved. His name is Samuel Winchester, a hunter.” she continued, pressing her cheek deeper into her alpha’s hand.

“A hunter,” the warmth of Brighton’s hand disappeared from Delilah’s cheek as he went back to his window. “She sure does know how to pick ‘em.”

“Good work, darling.” He praised, though it sound empty and almost automatic to the beta’s ears; as though he were too busy thinking to address her properly. “I want you to take your brother and bring her to me.”

Delilah hated that she had to do this. What made it worse is that Brighton was particularly fond of this omega. He talked of her frequently and there was no doubt that he loved her. It Delilah off to no end that the deep affection he had for the omega was greater than his for her. An much as she wanted to voice this unfair treatment, she kept it to herself- not wanting to jeopardize what little attention he showered her with now.

“Yes, Alpha,” she bows her head in agreement. “But what of the hunter?”

“Leave him be,” Brighton says after a beat of silence. “I have a feeling he’ll be coming our way soon enough.”

The beta is truly confused as to why Brighton would want a hunter on his tail. But, an order in an order.

“Yes, Alpha.” She bowed again, curtsy less deep than before, and made to leave the office.

“Oh, and Delilah,” he called out half turned away from the window.

The beta stopped and looked back, hand ghosting over the slightly tarnished, golden doorknob.

“If any harm comes to her, the pain I will inflict upon you will be like nothing you have ever felt before.” He threated, eyes cold and dead serious.

The dread Delilah felt sat ice cold in her gut. She knew he meant every word, farther driving the heavy ach of dread.

“Understood,” she tried not to let her voice quiver, but the shear amount to fear was too great. When Brighton waved his hand in dismissal, the young woman scampered away with a racing heart.

As the door clicked shut, Brighton went to his desk. He picked up a gilded picture frames that sat near its edge. The picture was of a twin boy and girl. They were smiling, rosy cheeks dimpled, as they hugged each other. Their mismatched eyes shone brightly from the flash of the camera. It was a birthday photo, one of the first that had been taken of the twins. Brighton smiled, thumb grazing over the little girl.

“Soon, my dear, we’ll be together again.” He whispered, gazing longingly at the picture.

Placing it photo back on his desk, the man returned to his window. He took another sip of his wine, watching the snow continue to fall. It was beautiful how the snow fell with such a vengeance. Soon, he would do the same upon the countless humans of this world, crushing them under his heel as they have done his kind for centuries.

 _“Things are falling into place,”_ he thought to himself.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before I get into posting the rest, I would just like to add/emphasize some current warnings. For starters, this story may be triggering. There are some part where there is depiction or mention of rape, violence, abuse, thoughts of suicide, and murder. In some chapters it won't be majorly graphic, but it's could get hairy. If these subjects are in any way triggering or disturbing to you, please do not read any farther. I would hate to unsettle someone because of my writing.
> 
> For those who wish to read, just not the sketchy parts, I will be putting some markers to indicate when such situations arise so that you may avoid them. Also, pertaining to the shows I'm using, the story isn't really set within any specific season, just know that their may be some references used that, if you haven't seen either shows, may be confusing. Not to mention there will be Male Pregnancy (Mpreg) throughout the story, whether in reference to or one of the characters is actually pregnant. So for those who don't like Mpreg, you might want to exit while the going's still good.


	2. Midnight Terror

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Unexpected guests in the midnight hours.

 

A low pitched rumble was what woke her up. For a minute or two she was confused as to what had disturbed her. Thankfully, tonight was one of the very few that the baby wasn’t hyper active, so there should have been no reason for her to fall from deep sleep. Then the rumble began, vibrating through the oak stained floor boards and lightly shacking the bed.

She shifted, trying to maneuver around in the firm embrace of her sleeping husband, ‘til she was leaning on her elbows. Her drowsy amber blue and hazel eyes glimmered with curiosity in the faint moonlight that filtered into the otherwise dark bedroom. It went on her a little while, a solid five minutes before dwindling down to silence. She sat there for a moment longer, waiting for something else, but nothing came. Shrugging, she brushed it off and tucked herself back into the protective embrace of her large husband. She could feel the muscles in his toned arm tighten a bit, pulling her a tad bit closer, but he relaxed and continued sleep; she tried to do the same.

Then, suddenly, there was a loud shatter. It echoed and startled the pregnant woman back to conscious. Her eyes shot open again and she sat back up as fast as she could. Her heart was racing in her chest, thumping like a fast beating drum. She listened intently, waiting for any sound of a person moving around. As she strained to listen, distant footsteps sounds from the front of the house. She panicked.

“Chéri, wake up!” she whisper yelled, nudging her sleeping husband.

He groaned, stirring slightly in his sleep only to turn over and settle back down. She whined in frustrated, a dirty frown twisting her elegant feature as she tried with great effort to wake the man. He’s heavy sleeping could be a pain in the butt at time, especially now. On the other side of their closed bedroom door, more shuffling and breaking continued.

“Sam, wake up now! There’s something wrong.” She nudged his a bit harder, French accent thick with panic.

Sam huffed awake, turning over and squinting at his wife in question.

“What the matter, Liv? Is it the baby?” He inquired, pushing wild bed hair out of his face and rubbing drossiness from his hazel green eyes.

Through sleep clouded vision, Sam could see his wife’s worried expression, high arched brows knitted together and mismatched doe eyes clouded with fear. That look alone had the man sitting up in concern. Then, a particularly loud crash and thump sounded, answering the man’s question. The hunter was up in an instant, slipping a carelessly discarded shirt on and retrieving his stainless steel, pearl grip Taurus pistol that sat in the drawer of his bedside table.

“What was that?” he questioned, his eyes fixed on the bedroom door.

“Je ne sais pas.” She responded, voice a low quiver as she scooted back towards him in the bed.

Sam could see that Olivia was frightened by this sudden disturbance. She hardly ever slipped into French, unless it was to whisper sweet nothing to him or talk to the baby. Her arms instinctually wrapped around the swell of her belly in effort to protect their growing child. With ever crash or thump, she jolted ever so slightly, a panicked jitter from the noise. Whomever, was out there causing the ruckus would pay dearly for scaring his lovely wife.

He turned back to the bedside table, pulling out a 17-round mag and loading it into the pistol. Gazing back to his wife he could see she was still shaking, eyes glued to the door and jolting with each crash. Carefully, he rounded the bed to her side, laying the gun down with his back to the door.

“Babe, look at me.” He urged, trying to distract her, but to no avail. “Olivia, look at me, honey.”

He placed a warm hand to her neck, caressing gently with the slightly ruff pad of his thumb. That seemed to break her focus of the ruckus, wide eyes falling on his soft ones.

“I’ll be all right, it’s probably a couple jerks looking for something to steal.” Sam assured, grabbing her much smaller, honey tinted hand with a firm comforting grip.

“Faites attention.” She whispered, holding his hand in the same firm grip. She pressed her forehead to Sam’s, a coal black braid slipping from behind her shoulder, and a shaken sigh pushing past her lips.

The hunter lifted his face to plant a kiss to Olivia’s forehead. Pulling away, he sent her another smile, brushing a stray hair behind her soft ear.

“I’ll be back before the two of you know it.” He reassured, lightly treading to the door and carefully sliding out.

Now in the long hallway, he moved with practiced ease as he neared the living room. Without the door to soften the noise, every crash and bang was much louder. Sam pressed himself against the cream painted wall, trying to avoid his shadow from appearing in the beam of pale moonlight the shone through the patio doors. From where he was standing, the hunter could see the shadows of things flying past the arched hall entrance. Just what were these ass-hats looking for?

He was just about to step into sight when a lone floor board creaked under the weight of his foot. Suddenly, the ruckus stopped and the room went deafly quiet.

“Damn it,” he silently cursed at the creaky wood.

With the only cover he had blown, Sam stepped out of the dark hallway and into great expanse of the dimly moonlit living room. From where he stood he could see the culprits of the disturbances. Across the room, just a few steps away from the kitchen stood two tall figures dressed in all black clothing. Their back were turned to him, stance relaxed, but that didn’t ease fool the hunter one bit. 

“Who are you?” He barked at them, pistol cocked and eye trained on them.

They turned toward him, black leather busters swooshing with the force, and glared at the hunter. Sam had been praying to God that, for once, this was just to human beings making mischief, but with two sets of florescent, electric blue eye boring into hazel ones, he groaned in exasperation.

“Oh, us? Just a couple of creatures on a mission.” They spoke in unison, voices meld together in an eerie feminine and masculine twist.

The hunter ran through just about every supernatural being he could thing of through his mind. Vampires came to mind, but with bright eyes like that it wasn’t likely. They could be djinn, but with the long sleeves of their black busters covering their arms, it was hard to tell; though he wasn’t ruling it out.

“What do you want?” Sam demanded, gaze sharp and two leagues from pissed.

The taller of the two, the man, stepped forward, blue eyes appearing to intensify. His harsh, menacing expression softened, thick, dark brows easing back to make his eyes look friendlier. The scowl evened out and his clenched, sculpted jaws softened.

Sam pointed the pistol to the strange with a quickness, squinting in a challenging manner. The man shot his hand up in surrender, electric blue fading from his eyes completely.

“You have something that we want.” The man spoke, tone gentle; none evasive.

“What?” Sam demanded, tiring of the slow exchange.

“The whore.” The other figure- the woman- spat, stepping to once again stand shoulder to shoulder with her companion.

“Excuse me?” the hunter asked, tone holding a warning and eyes squinting dangerously.

“Pardon my sister,” the man side-eyed the woman disapprovingly. “Your wife, we’ve need your wife to come with us.” he amended.

The woman huffed and rolled her eyes, but stared back expectantly at the hunter. Sam saw the angle they were coming from. The whole good cop, bad cop shtick was a game he was quite familiar with. Something to coerce him into giving in and giving them what they wanted. Well, fat chance that was.

“Not going to happen.” Sam refused, practically growling at the strangers. “I’m going to give you two to the count of three to get the hell out of here, but if you don’t I will shoot.”

The look in his eyes told he was stone serious, which had the man sighing in frustration. He dropped his head, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. He looked to his companion in a silent plea of another way to do this. The look she returned was dark, insinuate something sinister. The man, sighed again, like he really didn’t like what she was suggesting but eventually gave a nod in agreement. With a malevolent smirk woman made started toward Sam.

“I was hoping we wouldn’t have to do this.” The man whined, gaze apologetic.

As promised, Sam fired at the woman. One shot became two then three, but something was off. None of the bullets were landing. With each shot, the bullets bounced off of her like an invisible shield was protecting her. This couldn’t be good.

“You could have handed her over nice and easy, not we have to do this the hard way.” She grinned, sounding rather elated by the turn of events.

With a flick of her wrist, Sam’s gun flew from his hand and across the length of the room. Then, without touching him, she hoisted Sam up the wall with a tight, invisible grip around his neck. The electric blue of her eyes intensified when she saw her handy work, a look of pride on her face. Obviously she was enjoying the more than the hunter.

A second or two went by before incomprehensible words began to flow from her lips. From her low tone and repetition, Sam got the idea she was casting some kind spell. As she kept reciting, sudden bout of drowsiness fell over him, further solidifying that thought.

“He’ll be out soon, get the omega.” She paused her spell, ordering her companion to get on with their “mission.”

 The man started down the hall, disappearing down the dark corridor. Sam struggled to fight the spell, trying to escape the woman’s hold so he could keep her companion from getting to his wife. Unfortunately, with a rise in volume the spell grew stronger, drowsiness setting in heavy like the weight of a sledge hammer.

“I swear to God if you hurt her…” The hunter tried to threaten the thin woman, but with a sleep slurred voice his threat fell on deaf ears.

“Yeah, yeah, that’s what they all say.” She brushed off, watching as the man helplessly succumb to her spell.

Down the hall, the man was inching closer and closer to the bedroom door. The scent of overwhelming unease was oozing from the cracked bedroom door. Like fruit fly drawn to the sweet smell of fruit, the man stalked nearer and nearer to its source. With only a breadths width between him and the do, he pushed it open to find just who he was looking for.

Olivia sat in the middle of the bed, arms still wrapped protectively around her swollen middle. Her eyes were wide, hopeful when the door swung open. After hearing the gun shots, she’d expected her towering husband to come back, reassuring her that he’d scared bumbling burglars away and that everything would be fine. That hope, however, was dashed to pieces when the strange man came in. His angular face, wicked grin, sharp glowing blue eyes, and thick brows made for a menacing features, not to mention his built yet lanky figure.

“Who are you? What have you done to my husband?” she growled, scooting back towards the headboard like a caged animal.

“You are far more beautiful than he describes you to be.” He commented, voice smoky and adenoidal as he spoke. The man tread closer, grabbing hold of the wooden pillar of the canopy bed post; leering at her.

“ _Who are you_?” she questioned again, mismatched eyes going silver raking over him in distrust.

His smile grin grew wider, moving a tab it closer to her.

“Oh, me? I’m just a retriever, a tool to someone much greater.” The man answered cryptically. “I’m disappointed though.”

Olivia was confused by his last sentence. She cocked her head in question.

“He said you’d be feisty,” he told, “but then and again you omegas are always so bitchy when you’re carrying.” He mused.

“Who said that?” She inquired, letting the last bit slide for the moment.

It was the man’s turn to cock his head now. His slug like brows drew together and his smug grin faltered a bit.

“You don’t know, do you?” he questioned.

“I wouldn’t be asking you if I did.” She bit out, angered and fear wearing at her now paper thin nerves.

The man smiled, most likely pleased by the smart remark, but didn’t answer her question. He must have sensed her irritation, because his grin grew again.

“You’ll see, it’s supposed to be a surprise.” He told, pressing a thin finger to his lips in a hushing motion. “Now, I need you to come with me.”

He pressed forward, presenting his large hand for Olivia to take. Panicked, she shuffled back into the bed even more. Her heart rate picked up and her breaths came out in huffs.

“No way,” she growled, arm wrapping around her stomach.

Hearing her breath pick up and heart hammer, the man stepped back and dropped his hand. His predatory features lightened a bit, eyes changing from blue to the natural chocolate brown hue and grin softening.

“Look, I need you to calm down.” He suggested, tone even. “I’m not going to hurt you, but you need to come with me.”

She shook her head, and pushed away some more. It wasn’t just his presents that had Olivia in a panic. The fact that he wanted to take her away, to some unknown place, was what frightened her. She wished that Sam would come busting in to get this stranger out of their home, to put an end to all the insanity, but she had a bad feeling that the man had done something to her husband.

“Calm down, it won’t do you any good to panic.” He urged, brown globes filling with a pinch of compassion.

His words fell on deaf ears as her breathing became more labored. Sighing, the man was around the bed in the blink of an eye, gripping the nape of Olivia’s neck and squeezing ever so slightly. Just like that the pregnant woman began to calm, her breath evening out, limbs relaxing and racing thoughts dwindling down to white noise in the back of her mind.

“There you go, that’s it.” The man then positioned her in a position where he could pick her up bridal style and carry her out. Olivia tried to fight him off, but her body was relaxing against her will. All she could do was lean into the stranger’s warm and await what came next. He exited the bedroom and made his way back to his companion.

“What took you so long?” she droned, shocking Olivia out of her relaxed trance a little.

“She nearly had a panic attack.” He groaned, noticing the sudden change in the omega. A soft purr resonated in his chest, meant to sooth the woman in his arms; which it did much to Olivia’s displeasure.

The woman grumbled something in Spanish, from her tone it was derogatory, and the man snapped at her. The two went back and forth in the language, the words floating over Olivia’s head like ocean waves. In that moment she took stock of the room. Much to her expectation that living room was in shambles. Shards of glass litter the floors and every piece of furniture was either overturned or snapped in half. Books, and bits of paper cover the floor as well, the mess was extensive. Sam had to be somewhere, he had to put a stop to this. Livy shifted ever so slightly in the man’s hold to get a better view of the room, and that’s when she saw him.

Laying on the only upright couch was Sam. He wasn’t bleeding or injured in any visible way, the fact that he was unconscious wasn’t doing anything to comfort the omega. She whimpered, wishing that he would wake up and do something. Olivia wiggle uncomfortably, wanting to jump from the man’s hold and run to Sam, but his grip tightened.

“Easy, calm down.” He broke off from the argument he was having with his companion to sooth Olivia. If she could, she would have punched the living day lights out of the both of the mystery assailants, but alas she was too relaxed to fight back; sometimes she really hated her dynamic.

“You’ll pay for this,” She spat, angered that she was helpless in the situation.

The woman broke eye contact with her brother to glare at Olivia. She snorted at the remark, not understanding just what she’d walked into.

“Oh, really?” she snarled, canines elongating and electric blue intensifying.

The man snarled at his sister, a warning to back off. She faltered, appearing offended, then rolled her eyes.

“Who’s going to stop us? Him?” she taunted pointing to Sam’s motionless form. “How’s he going fight us when he can’t remember?”

Olivia’s eyes grew wide, her gaze switching between Sam and the woman.

“No,” she gasped. This couldn’t be happening, she couldn’t have him with an amnesia spell. He had to find them, to put an end to whatever these two asshats were cooking up. This could not happen.

The woman huffed a dark chuckle, a “cat ate the canary” type smirk on her plumb lips.

“When he wakes up, he won’t remember a thing.” She sneered. “He’ll forget everything that happened, and soon, he’ll even forget you.”

Tears were welling up in Olivia’s eyes. She desperately hoped that the spell had went wrong, that some who, the hunter remembered something, anything to make him remember her and their child. She couldn’t bear the thought of Sam waking up with no memory her, the woman his constantly showered with proclamations of love and deep admiration.

“Sam will remember, you’ll see,” she sniffled, all calm leaving her. “And when he does, you better hide and you better hide well.”

The woman just snickered.

“I’d like to see that.” She jeered, then looked to her brother. “Let’s get out of here.”

She placed her hand on the man’s shoulder, and like that the three vanished from the room. The two were so sure that they had completed the mission, leaving no traces of their presents and eliminating any future threats. But, there was one thing that they’d missed. A few simple words that would bring down everything that they’d come to know.

“ _Rappelez-vous, mon amour, et venez pour nous._ ”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, "Olivia" has been abducted and Sam knocked out. What will happen next?  
> As a side note, I feel the need to put it out there that Olivia is French. I may not write it into her dialog because her accent is only obvious when she's in highly emotional situations. That goes for some of the other characters as well. There will be some who speak different languages, but I'm still trying to work out how I'm going to make it obvious without writing their dialog in another language too much.
> 
> French Translations:
> 
> Cheri = honey, darling (a term of endearment.)  
> Je ne sais pas = I don't know  
> Faites attention = Be careful
> 
> If any of these translations are wrong, feel free to let me know.


	3. Visions in an Empty Glass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some new faces are introduced. As promised I have marked where the "Mature Content" starts, keep your eyes peeled.

** Chapter 2: Visions in an Empty Glass **

The drive was long, in route to Bedford from Roanoke. Silas was in Roanoke on word of another abduction, three families all gone in the blink of an eye. To make things worse there were two murders, the wife from the fist abduction and a child from the third. He’d gone in hopes of finding something on whomever was abducting and killing these families, but like the other thirty-two abductions, the scents were all different. The only thing the alpha knew was that the abductors were betas and there were two of them. Other than that he was back to square one with enough frustration to boot.

After the bust in Roanoke, Silas set on the road to Bedford. Five hours into the drive, restlessness had finally set in- not doing any good with the pure frustration he was feeling. He needed to stop, get a drink maybe, something to take the edge off. It was just his luck that he’d come across a tavern a few miles outside of Lexington.

The cool, night winter air felt crisp against his skin as he stepped out of his ’71, two toned, candy apple red and white F100 Ford pickup. Silas quickly entered the bar, tugging at his collar to keep the cold out. Silas had never been one for winter weather, to many bad memories that came with the season.

The tavern was set up quite nicely. In its center was the bar, black marble top resting on chestnut stained counter, and swirling stools all lined up in a neat row. Along the walls were booths and toward the back were two seating tables. In the vary back was a pool table, populated by a few drunk men- probably college students- who were making a sad attempt at playing the game.

The blonde made a b-line to the bar, taking a quick glance at a few gruff men occupying some of the stools, and ordered a whiskey on ice. His first sip was like magic, the liquid sending a pleasant burn down his throat. He sat, echoing twang of a guitar of some country song playing in the background, and took a moment to unwind. He had so hoped he had caught wind of something, anything, that would lead him to those faceless bastards.

Fifteen years, Silas had been at this, _fifteen_. Driving from state to state, waiting and watching, searching for something. There had been so many times he’d thought he was close to finding answers, but fate wasn’t on his side in that aspect. Now, he is bitter, and alone with golden ban around his finger to hammer in the fact, and it hurts. Silas took another sip, a long suffering sigh leaving his body.

“You look like you could use some company.” Remarked the Southern, honey sweet voice of a woman.

Silas snapped from his thoughts, turning to see who had spoken. The woman before him was a sight, there was no way to refute it. With a bomb shell figure, rosy-pale skin, and long strawberry blond locks, she was damn near angelic. A seductive smile spread on her plump, gloss covered lips; cherry from the smell of it. Shrugging off her jacket, she slipped onto the stool next to Silas.

“Name’s Gloria,” she offered, extending a hand. “What’s yours, suga?”

Silas gave her a once over. He’d met women like her before, dressed in tight clothing that hardly let anything to the imagination, batting mascara coated lashes as an allure. As pretty as she was, her looks did little to peek Silas’ interest.

“If it’s all the same to you, love, I’d rather like to enjoy my drink alone.” He drone, guttural English accent low and disinterested.

Gloria pouted, pressing in close to whisper in Silas’ ear.

“Come one now, honey, I just want to have some fun.” She cooed, pushing her voluptuous breasts against his arm. “Don’t you wanna have fun?”

A growl erupted from his chest and roughly shrugged her off. Gloria appeared to be affronted, rejection not agreeable with her. The brown eyed woman huffed, tugging her jacket back on and stomping away.

“Asshole.” Silas heard her grumble as she went to the back, toward the group of drunk collage boys.

This day was slowly going down the pipes. All the stress, anger, and frustration was building, suffocating him. He wished this would all be over, that he could go back to the way things were. These past few years have been pure hell, all he wanted to do was escape. If he didn’t know any better, Silas would have thought this was a dream- a very bad dream. But, the longer he sat on that bar stool, taking in every smell, sound, and sight, the facts were undeniable. A tired groan pushed past his lips, the calloused skin of his hands running down his face.

Silas opened his mouth to ask the bartender for a refill when a mind numbing headache came over him. The room began to shake and then, suddenly, he wasn’t in the bar any more. Instead, he was somewhere dark. Sounds of gun shots, breaking glass, and whimpered pleas coming from all directions. Then, there were flashes of different faces. The first two were men - brothers from the looks of it-, two oddly blurred, and then there was her. In a quick flash there she was, mismatched cat shaped eyes, long ink black hair, and rosy- pale skin.

“Corbin.” The name punched from his lungs before he could stop himself.

Then, just as quick as the flashes and headache came, everything stopped. He was back at the bar, sitting right where he was. The bartender was now standing in front of him asking him if he was all right. The question feel on deaf ears, however, as Silas threw ten ducks on the counter before zooming out of the joint.

Unease settle over the alpha. Silas never thought he’d see her face again, let alone in a vision. Something horribly wrong is going to happen and Silas needs to get to her before she got caught in it.

~~

**(Mature Content Ahead! Though it isn't extremely descriptive.)**

Addison knew he was being called to the alpha’s office for more than simple chit-chat. It was never that simple, though he wished it was. Rather, it was more about what it would lead to- pointed stares and heated touches- that made the omega’s skin crawl.

It always started off slow, an exchange of pleasantries and fleeting smiles. It never helped, only adding more fuel to an already high burning fire of fear. Then, like the predator he is, the alpha moved in. His gaze raked over Addison hungrily, aching to devour every inch of the pregnant omega.

When the first touch landed it took everything in Addison not to shrink away. Nothing good would come out of it if he did, no matter how wrong those hands felt on his naked skin, he’d only press in harder. So he relaxed, numbing himself to everything, receding into the one place no one could find him. What came after that was a blur, all sounds and jarring motion like a distant dream that didn’t belong to him. All that Addison could care to focus on was the soft tick of the grandfather clock in the room. Each tick was a minute past, yet it felt like an eternity. The pendulum’s swing is so hypnotizing, it’s back and forth motion catching Addison’s gaze. 

“Where are have you popped off to, darling?” his voice broke through the recess of Addison’s mind like a brick flying through a window.

His hands were roaming again, caressing and grabbing in places they shouldn’t. Addison shuddered, attempting to stay distracted.

“Look at me, sweetheart, look at your Alpha.” His tone was soft, but the growl that resonated in his chest was fierce, demanding.

Rough, calloused fingers gripped Addison’s chin, forcing the omega to look into eerily chartreuses green globes.

“You are beautiful like this.” Rough hands stroked down Addison’s chest. “Laid out nice and pretty for me to fuck, full with my child.” His hand settled on the swell of the omega’s belly. “You were made for this, for my cock, to bare my children.”

A whine bubbled from deep within the omega. He didn’t want this, rough hands on his rosy-pale skin, hot breathe ghosting over him; Addison wanted to scream.

“So pretty underneath me,” He moaned, leaning down to lazily kiss Addison. “You feel so good.”

His thrusts are hard and rough, shaking Addison so his very core. His back hurts, result of laying on the hard surface of a desk, and he just wants this to be over with. The omega wanted to cry, feeling sick from the alpha’s touch. Every stroke and caress felt like sand paper against his delicate flesh.

Eventually, the alpha’s thrust became sporadic, the tale-tell feel of his knot swelling. He ejaculated with a huffed growl, tied up inside the omega as rivers of semen filled him. Finally, it was over. The two stayed like that for a while, Addison spread out of the desk and the alpha drinking in his mate.

“You are mine, forever and always.” He kissed a line from Addison’s chest to his cheek.

Tears were welling in Addison’s eyes. This is what his life has been reduced to, living for two basic functions: to pleasure the alpha and bare his children. Nothing more and nothing less. It’s a harsh contrast from his life before, going from being free and loving whom he wanted to simply existing in this prison.

_If only there was a way out._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, now we have two new characters in the story, and issues to boot. How these two new faces going to fit into the scheme of things?


	4. Under Construction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The great change is upon up.

Greetings lovely readers,

 

Now I know it's been awhile since I've updated. Some crazy things came up with school and my personal life that have kept me from writing. That fact, however, has not stopped my brain from dreaming up all types of ways I can write this story. So I have come to a decision. I'm going to start from scratch.

I've been letting my ideas for this story marinate and I feel like I need to pull this project in a different direction. That means that Criminal minds and Supernatural are going bye-bye. Not that I don't love the two shows, but I don't feel like I have enough...I don't know, experience(?)... to do anything with those shows just yet. So right now I'm trying to organize these new ideas and post them as soon as I can. Until then the current story is going to stay up. 

Sorry to all those who liked what you read so far, I'm just not feeling this anymore. I've got these fresh ideas and I need to get them out. 

 

So until next time, I'll see y'all on the flip side!

 

 


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